Things Left Unsaid

A Doctor Who Angst(ish) Fanfic

Summary:
Of all the things they said in Bad Wolf Bay, goodbye was never one of them.

Rated K for actually nothing really bad.

Disclaimer: I'm not a Doctor Who writer. I'm only an incredibly obsessed fan who loves the angst.

A/N: I originally began this to be a part of "Becoming Her Doctor", but I accidentally started it in present tense because that's how the idea formed itself in my head. So it stayed separate, but something similar might crop up in BHD.

It's a bit of a ramble, hasn't been edited, and only barely spell-/grammar-checked.

(593 words)

She never got to say goodbye.

It hits her one day, and she can't explain why destiny chooses that day, that moment in time, to crash her world down about her again. Everything's pretty normal. She's sitting in front of a computer at the end of a day at work. Sometimes, it surprises her how much working for Torchwood is like working for any other company. Rules, regulations, policies, workdays that end, bonuses, pay raises, work that follows her home, utter exhaustion, work friends, work parties, work life. The only thing that's different is what else is there. What makes Torchwood Torchwood – the monsters, aliens, creatures that don't belong and do belong. It's a bit more hectic than, say, security systems, but it's still the same basic idea. Work starts, work ends, work gets done in the middle.

This day in particular, one of Rose's work friends – a nice, quiet girl by the name of Laura, intelligent as she should be to work in Torchwood but never lording it over her inferiors – is leaving. She's moving, to be precise. A way aways. Out of London, out of England, as a matter of fact. She's headed to America, where her family still is, to start over and maybe take a step back from the whole business of monsters and aliens. Rose doesn't think she'll stay that way. Once you get sucked into this world, for whatever reason, you're stuck and that's the way it is, forever.

As she's leaving, going out the door to the stairwell, she calls those fateful words over her shoulder. "Goodbye, Rose!"

And with that, she loses it. She's gone from coherent thought, just pain. There's got to be a way back, hmm? Even if just... just to say goodbye. She knew there was a reason she came back, that first time. Sure, she'd accepted life here as much as she could – which wasn't much. She'd accepted it, moved on maybe. But something was always bugging her, at the back of her mind.

Neither of them ever said goodbye.

Maybe that was just the way he did things. Maybe he just never said goodbye. Somehow, she couldn't blame him. If he said goodbye, if he always said goodbye, that would too many goodbyes to remember. Then they wouldn't mean anything, not even to him. Just another thing he said – as he said "I'm sorry." Then he meant it, he always meant it. He was always sorry that people died. Always. But you could be always sorry. Goodbyes, goodbyes were meaningless if repeated too many times. Maybe that was why he never said it. Maybe it would become meaningless if he said it too many times.

Maybe he couldn't help the fact that he always had to move on. He was just like that. Never stayed in one place too long. No more of his kind, so no more constant companion. No one could stand by his side forever, so why take anyone along? Why say goodbye, if it was so hard? Why not just give up, give in, let go? Just leave without saying anything. It would be easier for him. Always easier for him.

But it was never easy for him. It wasn't easier for them, the ones he left behind, so it couldn't possibly be easier for him. It wasn't better, for either of them. It just was. Just like the Doctor and the monsters, hand in hand, never one without the other. Just another thing that made him him.

Otherwise, she might not love him as much.

A/N: That was slightly satisfying. Much more to write than I think to read. I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm refusing to reread it, in case it turns out to be horrible.